Rewriting Molly Hooper
by Demisexual-Consulting-Hunter
Summary: Molly Hooper needs to get Sherlock out of her life, so she goes to America, intending to rewrite her life. Little does she know she's about to meet the one woman who is the perfect pen. Molly/Irene.
1. Chapter 1

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Summary: Molly Hooper needs to get Sherlock out of her life, so she goes to America, intending to rewrite her life. Little does she know she's about to meet the one woman who is the perfect pen. Molly/Irene.  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Sherlock Holmes or BBC related.  
Rating: T for now.

The breeze was cold the morning that Molly Hooper backed her bags, took a cab to Paddington Station, and boarded a train that would take her to the airport and then later, on a plane to America.

She couldn't take it anymore. The city, the bustle and the noise of the hospital had become too much for her since Sherlock disappeared. She had given her notice and packed her bags the week after.  
Sherlock Holmes had always been the epitome of what a man should be for her. And she had, foolishly, always thought he would turn to her in the end, like the men in the romantic comedies she watched. And in the end, he had, in a way.  
And she had helped him right out of her life.

She watched her reflection in the window of the train. _Stupid girl,_ she thought to herself and sighed. _How could you ever think someone that magnificent could love you?_

She knew she was plain and shy; her older sister had always made that quite clear. Joan had always been the pretty one, the friendly one, the popular one who always had a boyfriend. Molly was the, as her father said, "the smart one." So while her sister was busy planning her wedding to a rich lawyer, Molly had been preparing to graduate university and was already thinking ahead to her career.

There were plenty of men for other girls, but not Molly. From a young age she resigned herself to the fact that one day she would get married, but it wouldn't be to one of the handsome ones. It would be to someone in the pool of desperate men feeling their biological clocks ticking. Someone plain and shy like herself. Someone who would wear brown jumpers and read the paper and work an office job.

And Molly wanted nothing more than the exact opposite of that.

She wanted life and colour and adventure. She wanted someone who would sweep her off her feet and dust the briefcases and brown jumpers and newspapers out of her life. She wanted something more than plain and shy. She had, in her desire for the unknown, latched onto Sherlock. She had driven herself mad with longing, refusing to give up the fantasies that warmed her days, and set fire to her nights. She had made herself sick with crying, refused to eat, slept for days on end. She knew she was pathetic, and that she needed to get out of the places that reminded her of him.

New York, New York had been the answer to her prayers. One way ticket bound for the city with its exotic lights and alien culture. The people, the food, even which side of the street you drove would be different. And she, Molly, would be different there. She was determined to remake herself there. To let all of the past memories that haunted her fly away. She wanted to rewrite the chapter of life titled, "Molly Hooper."


	2. Chapter 2

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New York had been a wonderful surprise for Irene. Oh true, it was a concrete jungle of the worst kind: the grime, the homeless pouring out of every available orifice the city had, the prostitutes and junkies lolling on every corner. But it had that something, that spark that made her feel alive. Mycroft Holmes had been correct; she was thriving.

She was, once again, on top.

Irene smiled to herself as she sauntered down the street. She smiled to a man who lived a few blocks from her. Because he was the owner of the café that she preferred to take her breakfast in, she already knew what he liked and had gotten a table reserved for herself. She watched all the men that passed her, knowing that their favour took just a few whispers, a slap on skin, and through them she would secure for herself a life here.

She walked up the steps to the bistro that contained her favourite lunch and was ushered in kindly. They already knew her here.

She only had to nod to the server for them to start cooking her usual. She loved the unpredictability of her occupation, but in her daily life she preferred to keep a schedule. Her routine kept her sane.

She absentmindedly glanced over her phone messages while she waited. Three from the Spanish Embassy, five from the new Hong Kong trader at the Stock Market, and a few from the random men who were foolish enough to think they had a chance at her heart. That was the one thing Irene would never give to anyone.

She looked across the room to where the waiters were bringing out food, and her eyes fixated on one person in particular. They were sitting alone, facing the wall opposite her, so Irene could only see the back of their head.

But she could have sworn she'd seen that flowered jumper before…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Very sorry for the wait! I was very busy with end-of-freshman year at Uni and this summer was insane! Here is the (short) third chapter for you all!

Molly had decided to try a place she hadn't eaten at before; just some little bistro off her beaten path. She had no idea the shadow in the corner had been staring at her for the best part of five minutes. It was only when she caught the scent of spicy, oddly familiar perfume that she turned her head, barely catching the shadow walking out into the street.

I couldn't be, Molly thought, the store bell ringing in her head.

Without thinking, she threw some money on the table, grabbed her coat, and exited the bistro. She stepped out onto the curb and turned just in time to see a familiar silhouette walking away from her, one hand on a fur stole, the other clutching her phone.

Molly had to make her slow down, so she cried out in a moment of boldness,

"Ms. Adler! You are looking much better since I last saw you."

She saw the figure freeze and turn to face her. Irene sized her up as Molly walked toward her, ignoring the people that were staring from her outburst.

When Molly finally caught up to her, she could see that her statement was right in more than one way. Irene looked better than ever, or so Molly thought since she could only compare to a few photographs and a false corpse.

"Ms. Hooper, I presume?" Irene asked, holding out her hand. Molly grasped it and tried to shake the tingling Irene's skin left behind.

"That's right." Molly replied shortly, "The last time I saw you we were back in London."

Irene smiled, the corner of her red mouth curling, "On a slab, if Sherlock was correct."

Molly smiled a little, "Well, yes. I was the one looking after the body you so graciously left behind."

Irene began to take notice of all the people staring, so she looped her arm through Molly's, ignoring the stunned look on the smaller girl's face and began to lead her away from the crowd.

"Consider it a getting-to-know-you gift," Irene replied, clutching Molly's wrist with her free hand, walking along with her like they had been friends their whole lives, "Let's have a chat at my place, shall we?"


End file.
